Page 132 of Better Than Gelato
He’s asking me out on a date. My palms start sweating, and my mind starts coming up with reasons why I can’t go out with him. I’m a vampire. I’m a spy for the CIA. I fell in love and got my heart broken and it sucked.
I take a deep breath. It feels risky. I’m not sure I won’t end up heartbroken.
But I say, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
ChapterThirty-Four
The breeze in Sorrento, Italy smells like olive oil and the sea. It’s been three years since I left this country. Sometimes it feels like more. Today, with a deep inhale, it feels like less.
The resort I’m staying at opens to the public next month, and I’ve spent the last four days photographing it from every angle, along with the charming seaside town of Sorrento.
I unscrew the lens on my camera, carefully stow it in my camera bag and then tilt my head to each side, working out the kinks in my neck and shoulders. Tonight, at the hotel, I’ll go back through the week’s work and make my edits. But I already know my boss Eloise will be pleased.
Henry’s packing up his notebooks and recorder. We don’t have to file the story until tomorrow, so Henry will spend the evening getting drunk on the company’s dime. He’s a big guy, mid-forties, heading for his third divorce. This is my fourth assignment with him.
“Care to join me for a drink?” he says, gesturing in the direction of the hotel bar.
“No thanks,” I say. “I’ve got plans.”
The hotel calls me a cab, and I give the driver the address for the restaurant. Waiting out front is my Italian bestie, Paolo.
He looks good. He always did.
“Finally, my Julietta Dolcetta has arrived.”
I kiss his cheeks, and he pulls me in for a hug. Then he holds me at arm’s length.
“Three years and you look just the same.” He tilts his head. “Not the same. Better I think.”
“You’re as charming as ever,” I tell him.
We get a table, and Paolo orders for both of us.
“Tell me about work,” he says. “You’re still atConde Nast Traveler?”
“Yes.”
“And they love your photos so much they give you the best assignments in Italy.”
“I’m pretty sure I only got this one because having someone who speaks Italian means they don’t have to pay a translator. This is my first international assignment.”
“The first of many, I’m sure.”
“My boss did mention some assignments in South America, so fingers crossed I get put on one of those.”
Our food comes, and the first bite has me closing my eyes in bliss.
“You’ve missed this,” Paolo says. “I need to start sending you lasagna care packages.”
“You do,” I agree.
“Where are you living these days?” he asks. “Still San Diego?”
“For now. But I’m thinking about a move. Southern California’s getting crowded, and I can work from anywhere. I think I’m ready for a change.” I take a long drink of water.
“Tell me about Valentina,” I say. “I was hoping she would be here.”
“She wanted to come,” Paolo says. “But she can’t travel. Doctor’s orders.” He pulls out his phone and brings up a photo of Valentina. She looks as lovely as ever. And has a full, round belly.
